Broken Fairytales
by shadowsfromthedream
Summary: She had lost everything in that single second. Her fairy tale was gone forever. He wanted the girl who he fell in love with back.
1. Chapter 1

I tried to cry; but the tears just wouldn't come. The pent-up emotions ricocheting around my body threatening to drive me insane were inexpressible.

I needed to cry.

I punched the metal hard holding me in to the mass of whiteness that gave no comfort, ignoring the shoots of pain that dwindled in the knuckles, blooming immediately into dark bruises.

It did nothing to even take even a millimeter off of my emotions.

And so I stared at the ceiling with widened eyes, struggling to cry, completely unable to take away the crippling pain in my stomach.

Ironically, back then, tears came easily. For someone who did not even deserve my tears.

But now in my most intense, traumatizing sadness, I wasn't even able to shed one single tear.

The only sound that I heard was the occasional clip of heels down the hallway, and the regular beep that confirmed I was alive.

Why did I have to be alive?

I was all alone, anyway.

All alone, rendered this way in one single second. That single second.

It changed the rest of my life.

The only color in my white vision was to the side. A petal fell to the white table, crimson red.

The same as his blood.

It had spilled all over me.

Warm, it stuck to my skin as it dried as I stared at the white of the ceiling as they rushed me through several long white hallways.

What was the rush?

Nobody was here, after all. Because he had saved me.

Why did he save me?

A strangled feeling in my throat made the regular beeps go off the beat.

Soon someone would be in here to bother me again.

Why did they bother? I wasn't planning on responding.

The only thing I wanted to respond to was his voice. A gentle caress on my nerves that instantly calmed them, and told me I was in love with the man who held me around my growing belly.

I had heard it when the impact jolted me forward.

A whisper mixed with hard, shallow breathing, barely comprehensible.

"...Kyo...ko...I...love...I...love..."

_'...I...love...'_

It was resounding through my head, torturing me even more than the emotions inside me.

He had raised his head just enough kiss me on the cheek, tremors showing the ebbing strength, body growing cold against mine despite the scorching heat.

They had gotten me out, and then, with unconsciousness starting to black out my vision, a blurry image of wreckage and road side debris greeted my eyes before flames consumed it all in a fiery grasp.

Leaving me all alone.

Nobody was here.

My family I had started with the man I loved were all gone.

Gone in an instant.

They were dead.

* * *

><p>Wow... I originally intended this to be a one-shot, but I have an idea for this. I personally think it's a fairly good one. The story will get lighter from here on, I promise.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Fuwa Sho gripped his steering wheel with white-rimmed knuckles and a blank expression that had somehow miraculously managed to stay in place despite his emotions.

A bouquet was next to him on the seat. Morning glories. He had teared up in the flower shop remembering the look in her golden eyes she had told him all about her perfect fairy castle with them climbing up the towers.

He had disregarded all of his business when he heard about her. Even the new album he had been working so hard to publish.

It seemed so insignificant when compared to her.

Driving up to the tall, modern building that never seemed to brighten despite the attempts of planting brightly colored flowers and the sign that said,

'Welcome to Central Tokyo Hospital.'

But the word 'hospital' just made everything so cold.

Walking in, the beeps of the heart monitors drowned out the classical music. A smell of overpowering clean filled the air. Outside one of the rooms, an elderly woman cried silently while a nurse attempted to console her.

The nurse who had been walking him to her room stopped in front of a door, which she carefully opened.

Sho almost went into a shock at what he saw.

He had claimed before that he did not know what to do when she cried. It was the truth, but if that stopped him right in his tracks, then this paralyzed him to a point past even the slightest functionality.

Because for all the long twenty years he had known her, she always had an expression full of vitality in it on her face. Extremely sad, happy, angry lonely, content, all were not strangers to her. She had always seemed very much alive to him.

He had never seen her without an expression.

And she lay there, staring at the featureless white ceiling, face pale and expressionless, eyes showing nothing but vacancy and such an deep depression that it made Sho's eyes tear up.

Back then, she was full of life.

Now she looked like she was dead.

Or worse, from the repeating, infernal beep of the monitor connected to her from underneath her skin, alive without a purpose.

She had lost everything.

He finally managed to find the motion of walking, a now stiff movement that somehow got him to be able to drag a chair and sit down next to her bedside.

"Kyoko?" He whispered, fear starting to grip his heart

She whimpered quietly in her throat.

"Kyoko, please, answer me." He pleaded.

No response.

"Please?"

Nothing.

_"Please."_

He was, for the second time in his life, begging unabashedly. She had broken his pride that day, the first time when she told him about the engagement to / that man. He had dropped down on one knee, proposing right there in the middle of the restaurant, disregarding she was already claimed. He begged her not to marry him, finally said how much he loved her.

"No, Kyoko, please don't be like this. Please." A tear fell down onto her hand. He had not even realized he was crying.

She shifted her gaze from the ceiling to him, a cold, unfeeling stare that reached down far past the paralyzed confusion into him, kindling some flame.

An angry flame.

His best friend from childhood had always been a beacon beside him, full of light and life. She should never be lifeless, living just barely on IV fluids.

"Dammit, Kyoko, stop this! He would not want you to mope around; he would want you to move on! He would want you to live!"

Angry tears fell down as he stood up, shaking with emotion, glaring into the startled eyes that looked so lost and purposeless, something that broke him deep inside.

"He would not want this damned hopelessness, this lost will! He would have wanted you to continue on through everything with that bright smile!"

He needed to stop, otherwise he would lose it.

He turned to the window, throat feeling slightly hoarse from the lack of sleep and the yelling.

Both instigated by her.

His fists shook as he dug fingernails into the callused skin of his palms hard enough to bleed.

Unable to hold it, he whirled to face the pale shade of the once vibrant woman that was the beautiful center of his world.

"He would have wanted you to live! So LIVE!"

His fist slammed against the bars that kept her from falling out of bed, the metal bracelet clanging against it with a resounding ring in the stifling silence.

After breathing hard and shaking enough to have drunk far too much caffeine, he glanced at the Kyoko who just lay there, unaffected.

The tears flowed fresh, this time sad ones.

"Come back... To me... To this world... Please, Kyoko." He took one of the cold hands and grasped it, a bulge building up in his throat, choking him.

He felt a light touch on his head. Soft, delicate fingers combed through his hair. He heard a voice, familiar yet so laden with sadness it was unfamiliar.

"I'll be alright, Shotarou. I promise. Don't worry about me."

It was supposed to be reassuring, but it did nothing for him.

Her eyes were still dead.

* * *

><p>So, yep, a story in which Sho is displayed more than something other than a jerk. Because as much as I like being mean to him, he really does care for Kyoko, I think.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

The beeps of the heart monitor had long faded into the background, the passage of time meaningless.

She had taken the concept of time into a new mentality. Each second felt a year, each minute a decade; until a day seemed an eternity.

The nurses seemed foolish to her. They took the passage of time for granted, while each second took a toll on her like no other.

Each minute tired her to a great extent.

Every particle of energy ebbed from her slowly, like the tide when nearing winter. It came back, yes, but each time the waves of strength came up a little bit shorter than the last.

She wished she could speed the process.

However, the lapses of time staring at the white of the ceiling were interrupted by someone. Someone she knew quite well, and was beginning to see the effect seeing her everyday was taking in him.

Shotarou came for sometimes hours on end, as long as he could, and held her hand in a warm grasp. It was during these times that she was able to sleep, and when the tide came upon the shores.

He usually just said hello in a quiet, reserved tone, usually not receiving an answer. He sat beside her bed, took one of her hands in his, and then worked on something or other to pass the time.

Often he would fall to sleep beside her, and they were woken by Shouko poking her head around the door, telling him he had work to do. But then they would stay an extra twenty or so minutes, with Sho and his manager telling her about what Sho was doing, and discussing the latest press news.

They never said anything about the biggest celebrity story, the one about a car crash and the husband and his lovely young three-year old girl dying, leaving the wife all alone.

She didn't say much, or rather nothing, just moving a free index finger in the motions of shaking or nodding her head. It was hard to move her neck. Her throat hurt, also, and she didn't like the raspy feeling whenever she spoke.

But today, on a rather lengthy Shotarou visit, something was different. He was anxious, and had trouble concentrating.

Curious, she feigned sleep, watching him through the blurs of her eyelashes. She had gotten good at the action, as she often pretended it in order to avoid more questioning of the nurses she didn't answer, or even better, more testing.

He often glanced at her, and his concentration went even more awry.

She wondered at what was making him so.

It would probably come up when Shouko came.

Two hours later, and she still had not come, and the behavior was the same, albeit more stressed.

May as well ask him.

She made her breathing quicken, to show on the oxygen meter and then slowly let her eyelids slide open.

He kept on working, apparently trying so hard to concentrate that he wasn't paying heed to her.

"...Sho...?" she said quietly, rocks scraping seemingly on her vocal cords.

He looked surprised. She hadn't been speaking much at all. She also pretty much slept the entire time he was there.

"...What is it? Couldn't you sleep?"

"...No, that's not it." Her voice sounded awful. "You seem... Worried, Shotarou."

Now he really seemed surprised.

"What gives you that inclination?"

She simply kept on watching, waiting for an answer to her original statement.

But he quickly lapsed into a defense about how busy he was, and then delved into his schedule.

"That's routine, Shotarou." She interrupted, "You have dealt with worse quite easily."

He searched her eyes for a moment, and then realized he could no longer beat around the bush.

"Well... The doctor spoke to me awhile ago.

"He was concerned about something... Your health, to be exact."

He began to look out the window. Avoiding her gaze was an indication of the importance, and sometimes sincerity.

"...You've been in the hospital for a very long time, Kyoko.

"The doctor is concerned with your health."

A long pause and she just kept on watching him, patiently waiting for her answer.

He rubbed his scalp, irritated that he could not say it.

"...Well..."

Long pause.

"...Well, the doctor is concerned with your health." Third time. "You aren't very active here in the hospital.

"And he is trying to get you out out of here."

"..."

"Of course, you aren't stable enough to be alone, so...

"...I'm going to be taking care of you."

* * *

><p>Not much to say, except that it has been a long time in the hospital for Kyoko, I don't really know if you gathered that. I put that sort of confusingly. So her condition is stable enough to leave; she just is still extremely depressed.<p>

Not saying that she's all better, though. Being discharged and having someone watch you because of your health still means pretty darn messed up. Technicalities may or may not be revealed later.

Most of this was finished, but then I had to continue the next day, and was not in the mood to write this. Kyoko may be coming of too not-depressed for some of this, but, meh... That conversation with Sho was important.

And, apparently, not too much to say means another hundred words.


End file.
